When I was 18 I had my first baby girl. It was my first pregnancy I was a very mature 18 year old and very ready for my daughter. My pregnancy was great no problems or complaints I delivered my daughter Destiny at 39 weeks She was born at 10:11 am on May 14th 2000 wich happened to be Mothers Day that year. She was absolutely beautiful she weighed 8lb12 oz and was 21 inches in length she had the chubbiest cheeks and a full head on black hear. Destiny was “healthy” at birth and came home with me. We spent 7 wonderful weeks at home I breast fed and she ate and gained weight appropriately she went to her five day and one month doctor visit. She was perfectly normal and very alert the nurse even thought she was 5 months not 5 weeks she talked with the doctor the whole visit cooing and smiling. Just two weeks later on July 3rd Destiny woke up with a swollen eye lid I immediately thought conjunctivitis and then I noticed her breathing was more like panting. I took her immediately to the hospital where they told me she was very sick and had cancer. They rushed us to Boston Childrens Hospital.There I found out it was leukimia, we fought for her all day. Destiny passed away at 1:37 am July 4th hardest day of my life. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of my little angel Destiny. Over time it has gotten a lot easier and now 9 years later I am expecting my 2nd baby girl, I am so happy I could cry. I am 21 weeks along and so far everthing looks great. I just can’t help feeling that this isn’t real and in just 18 weeks and 3 days I will deliever my 2nd baby. I have been feeling my little one move around for over a month and she is getting stronger by the day. I just feel like this is a dream I don’t believe it am I realy going to have a baby. Is she going to be healthy. I had one other pregnancy in may of ’08 and i misscarried at six or 7 weeks so after the two losses I just have so many doubts, Is this normal?I know I am going to love her. I really just don’t believe I am going to get to be a mommy again.
No Photos (Story Only)
All (Karli)
All
by Karli
I am 26 years old, divorced, with two daughters ages 4 and 7. I am proud to be a mother, and proud to be a woman.
Originally posted here.
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Standing naked in front of the mirror, I started with my toes. I love you, toes, I said. I like the way you’re shaped. I used to love dancing on you, balancing my entire body over you in the most beautiful, unnatural way. You’re amazingly strong. I love you, feet. You have a lovely little arch. You have taken me to the most wonderful places, places that have changed me. You will take me so much farther. I love you, ankles… Out loud, so that it would be real, I spoke to my body. I looked at myself under the soft light in the hallway and I went over everything, each part, leaving nothing out. I spent the most time on places that I usually avoid looking at, the parts of me that I have learned to hide under my clothes. I love you, stomach. Your skin tells the story of the day each of my babies were born. I was reborn on those days, too. Two entire lives began inside of you, grew there protected and warm until it was safe for them to leave and start their own journeys on this planet. You did an amazing thing. I love you, breasts. You look different than you used to, and that’s ok. It was you alone that sustained my babies in their first months of life. You were the link between their bodies and mine, the agent of the most beautiful, spiritual bond I have ever known. I love you, shoulders…
I spoke to my hands, my neck, my lips. I looked myself in the eyes and told them how beautiful they are. When I had gone over every physical part, I moved on to my mind, my heart, and my spirit. I told myself the things I have always wanted to hear someone say, and I believed them. I forgave myself for hating this body for so long and I told myself that things are going to be different, now. You see, I have spent the last twelve years hoping that I would wake up one morning and float out of bed, the weight of shame and disgust having been suddenly removed from my heart. And it’s true that I have slowly accepted parts of myself as the years have gone by, forgiving my arms for looking like gangly iron rods because of the dozens of people they have comforted in their embrace, letting go of the hatred I have always had for my hair and caring for it instead, allowing it to make me feel young and feminine. I have learned to love parts of me, but never all. I avert my eyes in the shower, washing blindly and focusing my mind elsewhere so I don’t have to pay attention to the places I’m ashamed of. As I do this I imagine my daughters grown up, healthy and strong, bathing with closed eyes so they don’t have to see their bodies. And that thought makes me cry. I need to have overcome this so that when the day comes that I find one of them weeping into her pillow over how hard it is to become a woman in a world that teaches you that who you are is never enough, I will have something to say to her. I need to have overcome this so that I can forge a new path in the legacy of my family’s womanhood and teach my daughters from a new handbook. I think it’s entirely possible that if I’m able to do this, to truly love my body and who I am, their pillows just might stay dry.
My body is my ticket here, my all-access pass to existence. I have abused it terribly. Other people have hurt it in unspeakably horrible ways. And I have let the shame of it all taint the wonder of this life-ticket, crumpling it up and shoving it deep into my pocket, forgetting that if I care for it tenderly and keep it safe it can take me to places I never even dreamed. I wish I could say that I have such a deep feeling of self-worth that I have chosen to love myself for my sake alone, and that being a better mother is just a fabulous side effect. But I’m not strong enough for that yet. Someday, perhaps. But for now, it’s enough to love my daughters so fiercely that I am willing to look at myself through the eyes of their mother, loving this life and this body because of them. I’ll mother the three of us. I’ll teach us all the things I was never taught so at the end of it all, when we’re old and withered, our tickets will stamped and creased and stained beyond recognition. They will have the markings of a life fully lived… and they will be our most treasured possessions.
Thank you (Anonymous)
I had my first son 21 years ago. I remember being somewhat prepared for what the birth would be like (honestly, not as bad as I expected!) but what completely threw me was looking down at my body during that first post-birth shower. My stomach looked like that of a 90 year old woman! Droopy, saggy, weirdly wrinkled. I was horrified. I burst into tears because I thought I would look like that always and I remember thinking “why didn’t anyone TELL me??”. Of course I eventually bounced back (albeit a little slower with each child) but I sure felt alone at that moment. I think your site is wonderful for new mom’s and moms-to-be. Every mother’s body is something to be celebrated and I want to thank all of you for sharing your stories and pictures.
Color of private area after having a baby? (Anonymous)
Hello Ladys Just need some education on private area color after having a baby. I have been very self conscious about the color of my genital area, I do remember before having a baby the color of genital area being fairly close to the color of the rest of my skin, and once i got pregnant I noticed genital area getting a darker color as well as armpits and belly line, i know is very common for this to happen while you are pregnant, But what about after pregnancy??? What are your experiences on this? Did you get darker color as well and did it stay the same after pregnancy? Bit on my background, Im latina and my skin tone is a fair tan, and genital area is a chocolate color, and its been 10 years since i had my baby and dark color in genital area stayed the same and im guessing it will stay the same color forever.
Anonymous
5’7″.
Size 3.
125 pounds.
16 years old.
That was then..
Size 11.
145 pounds.
17 years old.
This is now..
My life changed when the pregnancy tests [all 5 of them] came back positive. I was 16 years old, a junior in high school, an athlete. I loved my body.
People said I was too young to be a mother. I was told that I was a slut [even though I had only been with one guy.] I was told that I was just another typical teen mother who would make my mom raise my kid. According to them, I was selfish..
My daughter was born on January 12, 2009. She had to be delivered with forceps. I had an episiotomy, hemorrhaged, and lost so much blood that my doctor ordered one of the nurses to find out my blood type in case I was to need a transfusion. Thankfully, I didn’t.
My breasts, stomach, butt and thighs are no longer what they used to be. I have stretch marks on my breasts, butt, and thighs.
I gained 50 pounds. When I delivered, I weighed 175 pounds.
Breastfeeding has helped me to lose 30 pounds in three weeks. Now, I’m stuck at 145 pounds.
But you know what? Even though my stomach is much looser, my legs are much thicker, my boobs are much bigger, and I have stretch marks, I know I’m beautiful. I’m happy with my body.
My body is beautiful because I’m a mother. No one can take that away. So go ahead, call me fat – I don’t care. I’m happy and I’m beautiful, regardless of what people say….
A Quote from My Dad (Anonymous)
Last night we were contemplating my navel–now an outie! and my dad said the following: Mom’s belly didn’t go back down, it has all these burbley folds and rumples, and her breasts are stretched, too. Every time I look at her, I think–5 babies!! This woman gave me FIVE BABIES! And every time I see her, I am touched and filled with love.
I found that quote so beautiful, how he finds all her baby-ness a source of inspiration and love.
Sad (Anonymous)
I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy just over ten month ago. I didn’t have the best pregnancy with one thing and another. However nothing could of prepared me for giving birth. Lots of damage was caused which meant I had to have surgery after having my baby. This was for vagina reconstruction and to repair a fourth degree cut they gave me. Since having the baby I have had regular physio but still have no pelvic muscle at all. Which means I have stress incontience and urgency. I am also struggling to get down to the weigth I was before I had the baby. It is really getting me down. I have been back at work a while but just feel like am failing at everything. I hate the way I look and just don’t know what to do for the best anymore. I just can’t motivate myself to do anything. Am sure my husband thinks I should just get on with stuff and that 10 months on I should be getting on with things. Everyone around me who had babies at the same time are all back in shape and seem to have perfect babies that sleep through. My baby does not sleep through and never as however he is perfect other than that. Am I just being stuipd? How can I feel better? Thanks
Dunno what to do? (Rocio)
Ok first off my name is rocio im 20 yrs old and i have a son thats gna be two in april. I now weigh 170 lbs my before baby weight was about 120 well around there… i had a c-section (and not by choice) sometimes I feel like my boyfriend is still with me because of the baby. I do realize that im not the same person as i was before. there has been allot of life changing events in my life like moving in with my boyfriend, having my fisrt child, moving to a new city (and i know no one at all)… need i say more… i try to motivate my self for diets and calory counting and all that but its so hard for me. There are days that i dont want to do anything except cry. I feel so depressed. Im not sure why i feel like this but it happens. To be honest there are days that i feel wonderful but then there are the days we go out to the mall or some where and we could pass by Victorias Secrect and he could say something like “oh thats so sexy” or just anything and i think to my self yea okay like my fat ass is going to fit in something like that, but i dont say anything to him i just keep walking. I dont want to lose weight for him i wanna do it for me so I can be healthy and play with my play and not get tired so fast. so if you have any advice please help. everything is appreciated!
Let’s be Honest… (Anonymous)
I’m fourteen months post-partum, and still have about 20 lbs to lose to get to the weight I’m comfortable at. How did you lose the weight, if you did (and if you say solely “breastfeeding” I’m going to scream, because I’ve been breastfeeding for fourteen months and have found that to be the BIGGEST myth around pregnancy) and what advice would you give to someone who really wants to (and is having trouble…) I eat well, exercise semi-regularly, but I’m joining a running clinic in January and am hoping to learn to love to run (to become zen with it, or whatever!) I’m finding it hard to be consistent with life and typical life stresses, but I’m prepared to become to committed to it in January (after Christmas, of course.) I want to get pregnant again in the summer, and really want to lose the weight before then because if I don’t I think that things could really spiral out of control and I will feel much worse about it. 1) Did you lose the weight? 2) How? Thanks!!!
Okay during pregnancy, self-conscious now (Karen)
I was 31 when my son was born. I had spent, easily, 25 years feeling fat, feeling overweight, feeling shy about my shape. As a teenager, I fluctuated between 15-30lbs more than was “recommended” by doctors at the time (5’4″-5’5″ and 130-145lbs). Then I met and married my husband, who is in no way shy about admiring me.
I won’t say this changed my self consciousness. In fact, I gained weight after we married and despite constant reassurance, I felt undesirable and sad about my appearance. I’ve always carried my weight in my stomach, the classic apple-on-toothpicks physique, and it didn’t help that I have a deep, 4-5″ wide appendectomy scar, but if I could shield my tummy with a loose shirt everything else was okay. But now, everything started to look bigger and was definitely not okay.
So this is where I was when we conceived our son. I was so happy to be pregnant! I suffered some morning sickness, the usual aches and pains, and went through a lot of therapy in order to make sure that my personal issues wouldn’t be a psychological hurdle to my long-dreamed of home birth. But really? The best part? I could stop worrying about how fat I was! For years, I’d had the “when are you due? Oh, I’m so sorry, I thought you were pregnant” comments. Well, now I was! I was so happy. I stopped worrying about how much I ate or how much fat I consumed. I had developed a pretty healthy diet over time, so that was not a concern. The excuse to nurture my baby gave me permission to be good to myself and feel good about myself without feeling guilty.
I was disappointed that I felt I didn’t look pregnant for the longest time. My baby belly was hidden under my belly fat. Finally I began to show, and yes, my belly now looks like many pictured here, a round mound of ribbed wobbliness in the middle of a saggy tummy. I weighed 165lbs when I conceived, and (yes, I was deep down glad of this) when I delivered him I weighed 198, and remember being glad I didn’t break 200. Even though I wasn’t watching the scale. Even though all that mattered was my son’s health. Even though I was healthy. Two lousy pounds and I was suddenly a slave to an arbitrary, conventionalized scale system! Sigh. I don’t have too many more stretch marks; most of mine are old, from pre-pregnancy, and present, but silvered by time. I don’t think about them much. I worry more about varicose veins (it’s the curse of the apple-figured, and I’m seeing a few more and more and am more selfconscious in shorts now).
My son is 5. When he turned 2 I began to worry about my weight again. I fight with myself, swinging wildly between anxiety and fear, and self-confidence and calm. One day is good, I feel motherly and earthy and sensuous and full of fun, but a few days later I feel matronly and doughy and dull. I’m afraid the latter is more often the rule, and I hate shopping, though I love clothes. Everything is so tight-fitted and belly-focused!
One thing that has struck me is how arbitrary a lot of this feels. As soon as I’m given permission and a reason that I honor with all my heart (pregnancy) I stop worrying about the “outlines” in which I’m supposed to inhabit and allow myself its organic shape. When my son’s friends’ mothers weaned their children and began to talk about “getting in shape” I became aware again, agitated, and yearned for the peace I felt when the conversations were less about body shape and size and more about what those bodies could do. Suddenly I remembered feeling like the Fat One. It’s hard to shake. But when I cuddle with my husband, or when I hold my son, or nurse him (yes, he’ll be five soon, and it brings him such joy to have that special time with me), I am so glad that whatever I feel, what they see and feel when they are with me brings them happiness. That’s healing, whatever else. But I do wish that I could feel the way I did when I was pregnant, the feeling I imagined that most “normal-sized” women feel all the time (and yes, I realize that even now, at 5”5″ and 165, size 14, I’m overweight but not too far off average)–the feeling of being good right where I was, and not comparing myself to anyone else. It was wonderful.